


HeartFelt

by Antipodean2



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Dreams and Nightmares, F/F, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-02
Updated: 2017-01-02
Packaged: 2018-09-14 05:29:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9164212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Antipodean2/pseuds/Antipodean2
Summary: after mount weather - Clarke reflects on her recurring nightmares where a demonic Lexa torments her with head versus heart arguments





	

**Author's Note:**

> a little play on the head over heart arguments / reasons used in the 100..It is a bit dark but no one actually dies this is an edited re post

She is here again, appearing as she so often does in that place between consciousnesses and dreaming where I find myself spending more and more time now. 

I shuddered as I felt her hot sweet breath on my face.  
“What do you want now?” I ask her, resigned to her presence.  
“Just a chat.” She clicks the last syllable as she so often did my name, she then licks her soft lips, her pointed tongue glistening pink in the moonlite.’ I watch the movement and hate the ache I begin to feel in the pit of my belly, I swallow bile as it rises in my mouth.  
“I don’t want to talk to you.” I tell her, and push her naked body away from me with my foot.  
“Oh but you do, you always do.” She whines, pouting uncharacteristically.

She sits cross legged at the end of my bed and her face cracks into a knowing smile nodding her head sagely.  
“Now where did we get to last time?” her bright green eyes glint briefly as she shakes her head. “Ah yes, I remember now, the nature of self, that was it wasn’t it?” She smirks and snaps her sharp teeth quickly. “Your move, I believe” She leans forward expectantly.

I sigh, resigned to this conversation and, sit up, pulling the furs to my chin.  
“You already know what I think.” I glare at her.  
“You still believe that the heart is the seat of the soul?” She sneers.  
“Of course it is” I reply, rolling my eyes. “All emotional memory is stored in the heart, if we are what we feel then naturally this muscle contains self.” I tap my chest illustrating my point.

“You’re so misguided, so ignorant.” She growls disdainfully, she moves forward suddenly and straddles my hips. I gasp a little at the contact. She slaps my head with her palm.  
“This is where you exist, here here here” She hits me repeatedly and sniggers at my shocked cry.  
I try to push her away but her golden skin begins to move over her body making my hands slip over it.  
“You’re wrong.” I gasp, feeling my anger rise. “Consciousness doesn’t create self, emotional identity does, and that comes from the heart not from the head.”

“Liar, liar.” she spits at me, her face now inches away from mine, her eyes flick back and forth to catch mine.  
“I am not, you know I’m not” I try to push her away again, her closeness too much, but she grasps my hands and forces them above my head, she leans in closer to me, pushing my body backwards and I meet her eyes reluctantly. They glow in the darkness; she frees one of her hands using her weight to hold mine in place. She wriggles her long fingers in front of me and smiles.  
“I can prove your lying” She smirks. as she gently strokes my cheek

I watch transfixed as her fingers move from my face and then merge into one and she plunges this human dagger into my stomach, at the apex of my rib cage. I scream and writhe beneath her, as I feel her fingers reform inside me and begin to claw and tug. I cannot escape; she pulls her arm back suddenly and laughs as she holds the bloody and shivering lump of bleeding flesh in her hand. She somersaults backwards, effortlessly, landing at the foot of my bedroll

“You see.” she cackles gleefully. “You see I told you, I told you.”  
I watch horrified as she begins to lick and tear at my heart, her white teeth ripping it apart in seconds.

I vomit.

Sick to my stomach, I clutch my now hollow chest and groan.

“God, god.” I gasp in horror

“I told you.” she laughs triumphantly and proceeds to dance maniacally around me.

I begin to sob dryly, devastated. She is right, she was always right, she knows me so very well. She always did.

I turn away from her and rock slowly back and forth, trying to drown out her elated cries as my hands trail over the jagged edges of flesh.

She is right, 

despite my hearts absence, I still feel everything.


End file.
